One February afternoon, while driving, I nudged my sideview mirror back into place with my journal. Suddenly, the composition book flew out the window, landing on a busy Detroit highway's cloverleaf ramp. I couldn't stop, and dark clouds loomed, so I tried to shake it off. Told myself the book merely contained day-to-day ephemera. But in it, I'd unpacked my grief over the loss of my dad and the family cat, and noted details from my daughter's joyous bat mitzvah. So hours later I drove back, turned on my hazards, and retrieved this damp chronicle of my modest, treasured life.
Jenn McKee works as a freelancer and library minion in Michigan, and otherwise hangs out with her attorney husband, two daughters, and two gray sister-cats. Jennmckee.com Twitter: @jennmckee Instagram: @criticaljenn